Rescue Me
by bookwormchocaholic
Summary: Prompt: Could you maybe be inspired to write another fic featuring Wilby? I think he'd make a very good service dog….


RESCUE ME

Gold scrunched up his nose as he made laps up and down the narrow aisles between the kennels. The foot of his cane clinked on the cold cement floor. The rank stench of urine, feces, newspaper and bleach made him want to gag, but he had to see this through. Pinching his nostrils together, he peered into each of the cages.

His boy Bae was not happy.

Oh, he put on a good front and was the best son a father could ask for, but his boy didn't have it easy. His mother ran off years before, never so much as calling him or sending him a card on his birthday. Then he had to put up with his father's bad reputation. Not that Bae would ever utter a complaint.

 _For all of my faults, my boy loves me._ Gold shook his head and wondered what he had done to deserve such a wonderful son. All of Storybrooke despised him – he wasn't a warm individual, but they resented the fact that he owned most of the town and never showed compassion to those who tried to worm the way of out contracts and the deals they made with him. He didn't neighbor, he didn't do small talk, he didn't smile much. The locals seemed to resent that he and Bae had a nice home too and a successful business – even though Gold had worked his whole life to get where he was.

The town of Storybrooke barely tolerated Bae because of him. Parents warned their children not to get too close to Mr. Gold's son – for a number of ridiculous reasons. The kids that did venture near him, bullied him. So Bae was friendless… His boy went to school, focused on his studies, and split his time between the pawn shop and home.

A small, yappy dog yipped at the bars, baring his needle like teeth. Gold stepped back and scowled. "I don't want anything annoying."

"Okay." A bright and cheerful voice responded.

Gold jumped back and swallowed a string of profanity when he landed hard on his bum heel. He hadn't heard anyone behind him and assumed that he was alone.

"Sorry," The brunette woman smiled sheepishly. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Gold straightened his posture. "I wasn't startled." He grumbled.

A bemused expression crossed her face. "Is that so?" The lilt in her voice was telling: she was Australian! It was perfect, refined – like the tinkering of china. Not like the guttural sounds that Crocodile Dundee made. She was small, her "Rescue Me" t-shirt was loose on her and her pair of cut off shorts showed off her shapely legs. Her thick hair was braided off to the side and a single plait hung over her shoulder. "May I help you find something? Are you looking for something specific?"

"Perhaps. I am looking for my son." Gold replied.

"Really? And you think your son is in one of these cages?" She giggled, winking audaciously at him.

His face grew hot and he tightened his grip on his cane. He had given her question an awkward answer. This…this dog wrangler person was making him nervous! Sneaking up behind him, gazing up at him with her innocent eyes, giggling and winking at him…

"No, of course not!" Gold retorted, wondering where the hell David Nolan was. He had been the one to let him in then had to see to a phone call.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Gold, I was only teasing you." The woman stuck her hand out. "My name is Belle French, by the way." She raised her brow when he didn't immediately take her hand.

Gold sighed and shook her hand, then drew back from her, overwhelmed by how warm and soft she was. "You know me?"

"I have heard of you." Belle corrected. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I assume that you are the only Scotsman here in Storybrooke. I'm new. To Storybrooke and to America, I mean."

"I need a dog for my son." He hated how dry his words sounded; how ridiculous he was compared to this girl. He did better with antiques and books and money. With the exception of Bae, he wasn't good with people. "He doesn't have friends and I'd like him to have someone."

Belle's smile faded and her expression grew more thoughtful. "I see. And you think a dog might help?" Tilting her head, she looked at him expectantly.

"A dog will help, Miss French." Gold insisted. "A dog helped me when I was young." He bit down on the tip of his tongue to silence himself from giving any more away.

His father had left him with his aunties when he was a little younger than Bae. His aunts' opened their home to him but sensed how lonely he was. So they gave him a mutt of some sort. Gold had christened the dog Bonny Prince Charlie – Charlie for short. Charlie soon became his best friend – his only friend. If it weren't for Charlie, he didn't know how he would have survived his teen years. Charlie died right before he went off to college…Gold's heart still ached whenever he thought of his old friend.

Gold hoped that Bae wouldn't turn out like him – odd and antisocial. Bae was smarter and stronger and would hopefully grow out of his shyness, and a dog might help with that. When he read about the "Rescue Me" animal rescue in the paper, he thought he might get lucky and find a good match for Bae.

Gold nearly swallowed his tongue when Belle's fingers landed on his wrist.

"I think you're right and I think we may have just the dog for you." She withdrew, leaving him to feel oddly bereft of her touch, and motioned for him to follow her.

Belle led him off to another wing, the one dedicated to medium sized dogs. Gold ambled after her, but averted his eyes to the floor, lest he focus too much on her perfectly shaped rear and how it swayed when she walked. _Damn…how long has it been? Eight years…More like ten._ No one since his ex. Again, another consequence of being backwards. Romantic entanglements were too much for someone like him. His relationship with his son was far more important and deserved all of the energy he had.

Belle stopped abruptly and pointed to one of the kennels. "Mr. Gold, I'd like you to meet Wilby."

Gold hazard a glance inside and his chest squeezed at the sight of the lithe, hairy creature within. A mixture of tan, black and white, with a pink-brown smudged nose, the dog was of slender build but was wiry.

"Wilby?" Gold repeated, bewildered by the dog's name.

"He was named after a character in the movie 'The Shaggy Dog.'" Belle explained and undid the lock on the door. Opening the kennel, the hinges screeched, nearly as loud as the howling canines. "Wilby is a two year old English Shepherd who was originally in training to be a service dog." She stepped into the cell and squatted, chuckling when the dog hurled himself at her.

"My son doesn't need a service dog." Gold retorted, sharper than he intended.

"Wilby isn't a service dog, Mr. Gold. I said that he had been in training. He didn't make the cut." Belle shot him a look that made him press his lips together. "Wilby is very intelligent and sweet, but he preferred doing things his own way. He learned all of the commands but preferred to do them when he wanted to." She crooked a finger in his direction, motioning him in. "Come meet him."

Gold shuffled forward, wary of soiling his Armani suit and two hundred dollar loafers. Doggy bowel movements and Armani didn't mix. But this was for Bae and he would do anything to make his son happy.

Sticking his fingers out to the dog, Wilby sniffed and then licked them. He broke away from Belle and jumping up on his hind legs, he then pawed at Gold's legs.

Gold shook his head and unable to fight it any longer, he smiled. Hunkering down, he ran his hands over the length of the dog. How long had it been since he had petted an animal? Folks in Storybrooke never brought their pets near him, as though they were terrified that he would eat them or something. Never mind the fact that dogs always whimpered and wagged their tails when they saw him.

Wilby swiped his tongue across Gold's chin.

Gold cast a glance at Belle and found her grinning from ear to ear.

"I think Wilby would be the perfect fit for your son." Belle added and straightened to her full height. "And I think he might be the perfect fit for you too."

Gold nodded. "Perhaps so." He admitted, ruffling the soft tufts of Wilby's mane. "How much?"

"'Rescue Me' is non-profit, Mr. Gold." Belle said. "Wilby won't cost you anything except the promise that you will give him a good home, that you're take care of him and love him."

This time it was Gold who made a hoarse whimpering noise. "Yes, of course." He swallowed, hard, to loosen the lump that had formed in his throat. "We will love Wilby."

Belle clapped her hands and gushed, "Wonderful! You will have to fill out some paperwork, but that will take no more than ten minutes."

"You won't have to run a background check or something?" Gold queried.

Belle rolled her eyes. "Your reputation proceeds you, Mr. Gold. I hear that you always keep your word and you're very contentious." Linking her arm through his, she drew him to his feet and patted her thigh. "We may call you in a few weeks to check on how Wilby has settled in. But I foresee no trouble."

Gold forgotten how to breathe for a moment and sucked in a sharp breath. Belle was still hanging onto his arm; her hands were so warm he was sure that they would burn through the material of his suit. She couldn't have heard everything about him, otherwise she'd be running in the opposite direction. Instead she touching him and she was standing close enough that her breath tickled his face.

"Now, I'll take you to David's office for you to fill out the paperwork, then you and Wilby can be on your way." Belle patted her thigh once more, making his heard flutter when her finger tips made a noise on her bare skin. "Wilby, come."

Belle led Gold out of the room and down the hall. He cast a glance over his shoulder and pride surged through him as Wilby trailed after them.

#

"We're here…we're home now." Gold announced to the dog in the backseat after he shut off the Cadillac. The car ride had been quiet for the most part, aside for a few confused whimpers.

Wilby wiggled his way between the two front seats and perched on the edge of the arm rest. His amber eyes scanned the salmon mansion and the thin muscles over his eyes flittered up and down, reminding Gold of little eye brows.

"Arf!" The dog panted and stamped his feet.

"All right, we'll go in." Gold declared.

He climbed out of the car; he shut the driver's door and opened the back door. Using the leash that Belle had provided, he snapped the clip onto Wilby's collar and held tight onto the leash handle, in case the dog somehow got away from him. Gold had this fear that Wilby would somehow get the leash tangled up with his cane. However, Belle had assured him that the dog was well-behaved.

Belle had been very enthusiastic about sending Wilby home with him. The girl even hugged him – no one hugged the dreaded Mr. Gold. He accepted her embrace good-naturedly and enjoyed it for the few seconds it lasted. She felt good in his arms – she was a hug personified. He hated having to part from her and leave.

"Arf!" Wilby's yip pulled him out of his musings.

Gold looked down. Wilby was waiting, watching him expectedly. Closing the back door, he led the dog up the stairs and into the house.

Bae was lounging on the couch, playing with his phone. "Hey Papa." He muttered, not even tearing his eyes away from whatever game he was playing.

"Arf!" Wilby barked, as though to introduce himself.

Bae tossed the cell on the cushion and raised up from his slouched position. "You got a dog!" he exclaimed.

Gold nodded and unhooked the leash. "This is Wilby and he is your dog now."

Bae dropped to his knees and met Wilby midway. The dog let out a high pitched whine and wriggled his back end. The boy slid his fingers through the dog's hair and laughed when Wilby licked his cheek.

"Can we really keep him?" Bae asked.

Gold rested his hand on his chest, feeling his heart clench. For the first time in a long time Bae sounded excited about something. "Of course." He couldn't contain his enthusiasm either. "Wait, you haven't seen anything yet." Clearing his throat, he ordered the dog, "Wilby, light off."

Wilby's ears twitched and scanning the room, he finally located the light switch on the wall. He scampered over, stood on his hind legs, gave a small jump and nudged the switch down. The room filled with darkness.

"Light on, Wilby." Gold instructed.

The light flipped on.

"Wow!" Bae held open his arms and called for the dog. Wilby bounded over, knocking Bae into the floor and licking him all over. His son squirmed out from under and hugged the dog. "Thank you, Papa! I'll take care of him, I promise!"

Gold's eyes watered a wee bit. "I know you will."

His boy was going to be okay.


End file.
